"Oh!" exclaimed the rector. "Cease! Cease your pretences! Mr. Marvel, your usefulness is ended. Sign that paper!" He picked up and held out to him with a tragic air a paper which he had already prepared before John Marvel's arrival. John's mind had for the moment become a blank to some extent under the unexpected attack, and it was a mechanical act by which his eye took in the fact that the paper thrust into his hand was a resignation declaring that it was made on the demand of the rector for reasons stated which rendered it imperative that he sever his connection with that parish. "I will not sign that paper," said John quietly. "You will not what?" The rector almost sprang out of his chair. "I will not sign that paper." "And pray, why not?" "Because it places me in the position of acknowledging a charge which, even if true, has not been specifically stated, and which is not true whatever the appearances may be, as I can readily prove." "Not true?" the rector exclaimed. "Is it not true that you allowed a Jew to speak in your church, in my chapel?" "That I did what?" asked John, amazed at the unexpected discovery of the rector's reason. "That you invited and permitted a man named Wolffert, a socialistic Jew, to address a congregation in my chapel?" "It is true," said John Marvel, "that I invited Mr. Wolffert to speak to an assemblage in the chapel under my charge, and that he did so speak there." "Uttering the most dangerous and inflammatory doctrines--doctrines alike opposed to the teaching of the church and to the command of the law?" "That is not true," said John. "You have been misinformed." "I do not wish or propose to discuss either this or any other matter with you, Mr. Marvel. You have allowed a Jew to speak in the house of God. Your usefulness is ended. You will be good enough to sign this paper, for you may rest assured that I know my rights and shall maintain them." "No, I will not sign this paper," said John Marvel, "but I will resign. Give me a sheet of paper." The rector handed him a sheet, and John drew up a chair to the desk and wrote his resignation in a half-dozen words and handed it to the rector. "Is that accepted?" he asked quietly. "It is." The rector laid the sheet on his desk and then turned back to John Marvel. "And now, Mr. Marvel, allow me to say that you grossly, I may say flagitiously, violated the trust I reposed in you when----" John Marvel held up his hand. "Stop! Not one word more from you. I am no longer your assistant. I have stood many things from you because I believed it was my duty to stand them, so long as I was in a position where I could be of service, and because I felt it my duty to obey you as my superior officer, but now that this connection is severed, I wish to say that I will not tolerate one more word or act of insolence from you." "Insolence?" cried the rector. "Insolence? You are insolent yourself, sir. You do not know the meaning of the term."